


make a move (make it now)

by stonesnuggler



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, M/M, New York Islanders Ensemble - Freeform, holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-01 21:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonesnuggler/pseuds/stonesnuggler
Summary: “You’re being weird,” Mat says, easy as ever as he directs his character toward a different building for safety, tearing down trees and garden walls in the process.Tito follows him, swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “You’d be weird, too, if you told your boss you were dating your best friend and maybe accidentally got said best friend invited to the company Christmas party.”“Very funny, Beau,” Mat says, still mashing away at the controller in his hand. He personally doesn’t think it’s very funny, but to each their own, he supposes.“I’m, uh –” he starts, pauses and scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m not joking.”





	make a move (make it now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glazedsun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazedsun/gifts).



> happy holidays, jessica! i've wanted to write these idiots for a while now, so i'm glad your requests gave me the option to! i hope u enjoy <3 
> 
> thank u to e, lj, and g for letting me rant abt this and motivating/betaing me through the whole thing!! 
> 
> title from take me out by aly and aj

It’s shaping up to be a pretty normal Tuesday at the office for Tito. Nothing too outlandish had happened, all their accounts were in good standing, no clients were overly cranky with them which is a godsend – especially around the holidays.

Plus, he and Mat have pizza night plans after this, so all in all, Tito would notch it as a win.

“Hey, Tito, question for you,” Jordan says, right as they’re about to head out for the day. “Think you’re making it to the holiday party next week?”

Tito shrugs. “Probably. Gotta see what’s on the calendar at home, but I should be able to.”

“Sweet,” Jordan says. “Bring that boyfriend of yours, too.”

And, like, if Tito had the ability to play comedic sound effects in his head, it would have been the perfect record-scratch. But he doesn’t have that ability, so his mouth just drops open instead.

“Who?” he manages, eyebrows furrowed.

Jordan’s eyebrow raise is almost comical as he points to the photo Tito has on his desk. It’s him and Mat on their graduation day, Tito holding Mat up where he had jumped into Tito’s arms. They’re both laughing so hard that their eyes can’t even be seen. It’s easily one of Tito’s favorite pictures of the two of them.

“Mat, right?” Jordan says. “He’s welcome to come along, I just need to know so I can tell catering how many people there’ll be.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tito manages, before he can get his mouth to cooperate with his brain which is screaming _‘why are you agreeing with this, you absolute disaster?’_ But the message is very clearly not received because he keeps going, nods and says, “Yeah, he’ll be there, too.”

“Perfect,” Jordan says, pleased as he claps Tito on the back before heading toward his car. “Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Yeah,” Tito says, unlocking his own car. “Yeah, it’ll be great.”

● ● ●

He manages to keep it together through the pizza, and nearly almost all the way through a couple rounds of Fortnite before Mat notices that he’s being a bit twitchy.

It’s not that he wants to be, okay? It’s just hard to process the fact that he _knows_ he has to tell Mat this, because he tells Mat everything, besides the fact that he’d have to tell Mat _anyway_ because he’s directly involved this time.

“You’re being weird,” Mat says, easy as ever as he directs his character toward a different building for safety, tearing down trees and garden walls in the process.

Tito follows him, swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “You’d be weird, too, if you told your boss you were dating your best friend and maybe accidentally got said best friend invited to the company Christmas party.”

“Very funny, Beau,” Mat says, still mashing away at the controller in his hand. He personally doesn’t think it’s very funny, but to each their own, he supposes.

“I’m, uh –” he starts, pauses and scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m not joking.”

“How did–” Mat says, blinks a few times. “They think we’re _together?_ Like, boyfriends or something?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Tito says, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back against the couch cushion. “He was just asking about the party and what I was up to and then he asked about you and I... may have panicked a little.”

Mat has to hear the defeat in Tito’s voice, because he stops, small confused smile still on his face as he turns to face Tito.

He’s prepared for so many questions – namely, why Tito’s boss even believes that he and Mat would be together in the first place – but he just gets Mat sighing, and shaking his head a little.

“So what’s the story?”

The story is that there isn’t a story. Or, well, maybe there is a story, but it’s not a very long or exciting one. It can basically be summed up by saying that Mat and Tito are roommates, they’ve been roommates for a while, and maybe Tito is a bit of a disaster.

That’s maybe not the whole story, but it can explain the whole story pretty well.

So Tito’s been into Mat since college when they were in the same statistics class and, for some reason, still forced to sit alphabetically. It was only for the first week, but he and Mat hit it off and made those seats their officially unofficial assigned ones.

The next year, when Tito was looking to move off campus, Mat followed. The rest is history.

Mostly.

Aside from the huge crush Tito has been doing pretty well to hide, before his boss called him out.

So, Tito tells him the story. About how he panicked and didn’t know what else to say. About how nearly everyone in his office has someone to bring along to the party. But not about how he apparently mentions Mat enough that he could even get mistaken as Tito’s boyfriend in the first place.

“So, what’s the play here?” Mat says, after he sufficiently laughs his way through Tito’s explanation. “Party’s in a week?”

Tito nods. “Yeah, next Saturday,” he says, scratches at the back of his neck. “But we’re hosting game night the night before.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right,” Mat says, rubbing at the hinge of his jaw. “I mean, it won’t be too hard right? I just gotta put on a nice suit and maybe say some nice things about you?”

“Sure that won’t be too hard for you?” Tito chirps, albeit a little weakly, and Mat rolls his eyes.

“I can feel you worrying, bro,” Mat says. “Just chill. We’ll just roll with it, eh?”

And that’s the thing – Tito knew this wouldn’t be _bad_. Like, sure, maybe he’ll never live it down, but of all the people that this could’ve happened with, he’s glad that it’s Mat. His crush that’s obvious to him and evidently his coworkers aside, he knew Mat would be relatively chill about the whole thing. It’ll be fun to sit back and laugh at down the road.

Well, fun for Mat, he bets. Not fun for him and his probably still aching heart that he gets to pretend he has the one thing he’s wanted for years.

But he digresses.

● ● ●

So, it’s fine. They don’t bring it up over the next two days, it’s not weird at all, and Tito only has three flashing moments of guilt when Mat is brought up at work, which keeps happening now.

It started with Jordan and one of his offhand comments, talking about his own partner, and then suddenly their whole lunch crew was talking about significant others and their shenanigans. Tito was just grateful that he could very slightly relate to the conversation with his best-friend-goggles on instead of his fake-boyfriend goggles.

And then Anders has to say something about his tie, which is actually a gift from Mat, and he doesn’t think to _not_ say that, thus resulting in Anders making stupid kissy noises at him until Tito rolls his eyes hard enough to relay that he’s _not_ talking about it, thank you very much.

Anyway, it’s fine. Tito’s doing fine with it. Or he wants to, but it’s kind of hard to be fine with it after being questioned by coworkers all day about your fake boyfriend, and then you go to a holiday market with said fake boyfriend. There are couples everywhere, mitten-clad hands clasped together while they sip mulled wine.

It’s a little nauseating, to be honest, but it also makes Tito’s palms itch.

“I’ve gotta get another ornament for Liana,” Mat is saying when Tito pulls back from his mini crisis. “ _Apparently_ a personalized signature from JT for her birthday isn’t enough.”

“She’s always been the hardest to shop for, though,” Tito says, picking up one of the ornaments. “Plus, she knows you got that from work. Imagine if you ran into him on the street and you were just like ‘Yo, my sister is in love with you, can you--”

“Wait, Tito?” someone is saying behind him. He turns on his heel at the familiar voice to find Jordan behind him, his own mug of mulled wine in his hands.

“As if I don’t get enough of you during the week,” Tito jokes, pulling him in for a bro-hug. “What’s up, man?”

“Fuck off, I’m a _delight_ ,” Jordan says, rolling his eyes before they settle on Mat where he’s standing next to Tito. “You must be Mat.”

“Shit, yeah,” Tito says, and he feels Mat’s arm wind behind him, hand settling on his waist. “Mat, this is my coworker Jordan.”

He puts a little more emphasis on the word ‘coworker’ than strictly necessary, but he almost didn’t need to – Mat already knew the play.

“You’re Tito’s supervisor, right?” Mat says, flashing a smile as he holds out his hand. He’s too fucking good at this, Tito lets himself think. “Finally a face to the name. Nice to meet you, man.”

Jordan shakes Mat’s hand, smile coming to his own face. “Keep him if he’s calling me your supervisor,” he says to Tito before turning back to Mat. “Great to finally meet you, considering Tito here never shuts up about you.”

Tito flushes, thankful that he can blame the cold for the red in his cheeks, but Mat takes it in stride, arm tightening around Tito’s waist.

“That would mean he ever shuts up at all,” Mat jokes, and Tito has to roll his eyes, elbowing him in the side.

“I regret ever introducing you two,” Tito says in jest. “Game night is cancelled.”

“Don’t even front,” Mat says. “You love game night. You _started_ game night.”

“That is _not_ the point,” says Tito, elbowing him again.

In front of them, Jordan laughs. “You’re more married than me and Taylor.”

Which, Tito knows for a fact is incorrect. He and Taylor are the napkin-notes-in-lunchboxes, affirmative-post-its-in-daily-agenda kind of disgustingly domestic that reminds Tito so much of couples kissing goodbye outside of high school classrooms.

It makes sense, since they’re high school sweethearts, but doesn’t make it any less sickeningly sweet.

“Jor, you have my wallet!” someone calls behind Jordan, and Jordan winces as he pats his pocket.

“Speaking of husbands,” Jordan says, nodding over to the unfairly attractive man in a Devils beanie waiting in line near a very impatient vendor. “I’ll catch you guys at game night?”

“For sure,” Tito says, putting his own arm around Mat.

“Mat, great meeting you, man,” Jordan says, shaking his hand one more time.

“You, too,” Mat says, easy as ever before Jordan turns to walk away.

Tito waits until Mat goes to move before dropping his arm, clearing his throat as he turns to look at ornaments again.

“Nice little impromptu test run, eh?” Mat says, picking up one of the New York ornaments. Tito takes it from him, setting it down. He got that one for her last year.

● ● ●

Ten minutes before people are meant to show up at Mat and Tito’s for game night, Tito realizes that they don’t have a story.

“What do you mean?” Mat asks, throwing more beer into the fridge. “We don’t really need a, like, cutesy thing or whatever. People have always–” he stops himself, eyes flicking over to Tito for just long enough for Tito to catch him before sighing. “I mean, it wasn’t like people always assumed we were just friends.”

Tito wants to comment, wants to say anything that isn’t the quiet, strangled sound that comes out, but he can’t. Instead, he clears his throat and nods a bit.

“I guess. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, in case anyone asks,” Tito says. “They’re nosy fuckers.”

Mat smiles as he closes the fridge, a small almost sad thing. He’s quiet as he breaks down the beer box, and sets it near their recycling bin.

“Just trust me, Beau. We’ll be on the same page about this,” Mat says, and it sounds like a loaded statement, one that Tito wants so desperately to pick open.

He doesn’t get the chance to, however, because as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he’s interrupted by a buzz at their intercom system.

Mat buzzes whoever’s at the door into the building, and Tito fidgets with a throw pillow as he hears the ruckus of his coworkers coming up the stairs.

It’s, of course, Jordan and Taylor that show up first, followed closely by Anders and Nick. Jordan brought Catan, for the sole reason of the fact that Tito has never played it. Nick and Anders add their mega expansion pack of Cards Against Humanity to the pile of games Tito and Mat already have on the table.

After everyone is officially introduced to Mat – Tito gives himself credit for not tripping over the sentence ‘ _this is my boyfriend, Mat’_ like he thought he would – it’s the comfortable kind of noisy that comes along with people who are familiar with each other. Even Mat is finding his place in conversations, and none of the guys have pestered him about working for the Islanders yet.

As true to every game night, as soon as a game gets started, everyone else shows up pretty soon after. Tito has to set down his cards at least twice to buzz people up, and if the laughter that happens while he’s out of the room means anything – if he knows Mat at all – he knows his cards are getting looked at.

Soon enough, their apartment is full of chatter, chirping, and vague insults. They’re just starting to figure out the next game when someone makes a joke about Taylor and Jordan basically being soulmates.

“We can’t all be lucky enough to sit next to our fuckin’ soulmates in grade ten English class,” Anders says, and Taylor just shrugs while Jordan rolls his eyes. Tito thinks that has to happen a lot.

“Speaking of,” Jordan says, taking a drink of his beer and turning to Tito. “How did _this_ happen?”

“What do you mean, ‘how did this happen’” Tito says. “I’m a delight, Mat was just incredibly charmed by me.”

Next to him, Mat snorts. “Sure, babe.”

Tito’s heart jumps at the pet name, at how easily it came from Mat’s lips.

“The whole story is kind of boring,” Tito says. “Just college nonsense mostly.”

Mat gasps, feigning offense, hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, Beau, really.”

“On with it then,” Nick says, tossing a piece of popcorn at Tito. “Let me live vicariously through the children.”

Tito laughs nervously, looking down as Mat says, “So, our senior year of college, right? We’ve got this slick little place off campus–”

“The senior year apartment was not _slick_ , it was a fuckin’ dump,” Tito interjects, but Mat just holds his hand up, gives Tito a look that basically says ‘trust me’ with his eyes. Tito holds his hands up in surrender, gives the floor to Mat.

“Anyway, we’re doing our own thing, and we’re in, like, the last few weeks of this rec hockey league that we both play in,” says Mat. He’s picking at the label of his beer bottle, which Tito knows he only does when there’s too much attention on him. “So they had Beau and I in the same group of three-on-three and the chemistry was just unreal, you know? Like obviously we’re best friends, it just clicked.”

Tito swallows hard, knowing exactly where this story is going. Knowing that Mat is going to talk about–

“So it’s one of the last games of the season, and usually it’s pretty lowkey, but this one was against our bigger rival,” Mat says. “And Beau is just _pumped_ , ya know? LIke you’d think it’s the fuckin’ Cup final or something, but all we would get out of this is, like, a six pack of Coors.”

The guys all laugh about that, chirping Tito just as he expected them to, and Mat takes the opportunity to take a drink from his bottle. Tito tries really hard not to watch as he swallows.

“So it’s, like, the last few minutes of the game and we’re down by two, and I’m sure you guys know how contagious Beau is with how competitive he is,” Mat says, nudging Tito in the side. “So we’re really getting into it, and Beau scores to get us closer, then immediately dishes it to me and we tie it.”

“Fucking of course it was hockey,” Casey says from his spot in the corner. “Never fuckin’ change, Tito.”

“Fuck off, Zeeker,” Tito says, voice a little tighter than he expected.

Mat laughs, real smile making its way onto his face. “So like, Tito scores the game winner with like, maybe twenty seconds to go, I’m not joking. Just this unreal little dangle, slips it five-hole and then comes _barreling_ at me.”

Which, yes, all of this happened. This is a real story, and Tito has _no_ idea what Mat’s trying to get at here. He remembers crashing into Mat, sending them both toppling to the ice, he remembers Mat saying something that he couldn’t quite make out because then they were piled with teammates as the buzzer sounded.

“He takes us both down, and I know I’m going to have this wicked bruise on my ass, I just know it,” Mat says, laughing. “And I just looked at him, and I don’t know if it was adrenaline or what, but I uh–” he stops, scratches at the back of his neck. “I told him I wanted to kiss him, and he let me.”

Tito pales, stomach swooping as the guys all sound off in mocking cheers, fake retching, the whole nine yards. He chances a glance at Mat, who’s looking directly at him, cheeks pink and a small crooked smile on his lips.

“None of you are allowed to call me and Ebs old marrieds ever again,” Taylor says as he pushes himself up and off the couch, making his way to the kitchen. “That’s some rom-com shit right there.”

“You would know,” Jordan calls after him, and then the attention is finally diverted back to the real old marrieds.

“Refill?” Mat asks suddenly, gesturing to Tito’s nearly empty bottle. Unable to process words, Tito just nods, downing the rest of it before handing Mat the bottle.

The rest of the night is fine. Great, even. Even if Tito gets a little lost in his thoughts during three separate rounds of whatever game they’ve moved to, because hearing your best friend recount a situation that was just as emotional for him but turn it romantic is a little distracting.

Later, after all the bottles have been cleared and they’re heading to bed, Tito tries very hard not to think too much about how Mat’s hand lingers just a little longer on Tito’s elbow than usual as they say goodnight.

● ● ●

Tito hasn’t been nervous about any of this since the initial white lie he told Jordan, okay?

It’s been easy enough, this push and pull of fake-boyfriend bliss with Mat, but that all changed after he saw Mat in the suit he’s wearing to the party, perfectly tailored and a deep blue that makes his eyes look lighter.

So, long story short, he’s fucked.

“You look great,” he manages, straightening his own tie before they start heading toward the car.

Mat smiles, holds his hands out as if to say ‘look at me’. As if Tito isn’t already. As if Tito can take his eyes off of him at all.

“Not too much?” Mat says, like he’s genuinely worried about what Tito’s coworkers think, like they don’t already love him.

Tito shakes his head, tucks his hands in his pocket. “Nah. Let’s go, hotshot.”

The drive is easy – it’s far enough out from the holidays that traffic isn’t too much of a nightmare aside from normal suburban traffic, and finding the venue is even easier. They leave their car with the valet and head into the conference hall, and Tito only tries to pull back a little when Mat takes his hand before they walk in.

The party is nearly in full swing, drinks pressed into palms and conversation flowing easily. It’s nice to lead Mat through the crowd to their seats with a hand on the small of his back, and he’s not going to admit it, but he’s definitely committing everything to memory when things have to go back to normal after tonight.

After dropping their coats at their seats, they make the rounds while they’re on their way to the bar. They’re saying hello to everyone and their partners, and then the sinking feeling in Tito’s stomach is back, hot and embarrassing to admit even to himself. They shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not fair to him, it’s not fair to Mat having to pretend to do this because Tito couldn’t just tell the fucking truth –

“You okay?” Mat asks, nudging Tito as he hands him his drink.  

Tito shrugs, then decides ‘fuck it’ and says, “Uh, actually. Come with me.”

Mat looks confused, but follows Tito over to one of the doorways at the back of the hall.

“What’s going on?” Mat says, eyebrows furrowed at Tito where he’s scratching the back of his neck.

“I don’t – We can’t do this,” Tito says, all in one whoosh of breath. “It’s just. It feels wrong, and I don’t want to put you in this position, and–”

“Woah woah woah, slow down,” Mat says, putting a hand on Tito’s arm, trailing it down to his hand. Tito doesn’t let go, can’t bring himself to. “You’re not putting me in anything I didn’t want to be in, Tito.”

Still, Tito shakes his head. “I just feel so fucking awful about it, I don’t know what’s––”

And Tito doesn’t know what he was going to say he doesn’t know, because he forgets as soon as he’s interrupted by a chorus of silverware on glasses.

“You know the rules, boys!” someone calls across the hall, pointing up above their heads, where sure enough, sits a sprig of mistletoe.

Tito swallows hard, tries to school his face into something humorous, something that shows he’s playing along. Mat squeezes his hand.

“We don’t, if you don’t want,” Mat says, “but I’m in. And not just for pretend, Tito, I’m _in_ , okay?”

Tito stops, eyes wide. “Wait, Mat are you––”

“On with it!” Tito hears Zeeker shout. The clinking gets louder.

“Are you serious,” Tito says. “Please don’t be fucking with me.”

“I promise I’m not,” Mat says, genuine and sure and his hand tightening in Tito’s.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but he doesn’t ever get there because Tito has to pull him in for a kiss. He can feel Mat smile against his lips as the clinking gets even louder, followed by cheers, and then they have to pull back because it’s pretty hard to kiss when you can’t stop smiling.

“Matty,” Tito says, against Mat’s lips, because he can’t even believe this is real. This is _happening_ holy _fuck._

“Yeah,” Mat says, smiling as he sets their foreheads together. Tito wonders if Mat can feel his pulse hammering where they’re still holding hands.

Tito lets his head drop to Mat’s shoulder, takes a deep breath, and lets himself have the moment.

And really, in the end, he couldn’t tell you much more about the party, since he was too busy remembering the feeling of Mat pressed against his side, even if that seems like it’ll become a regular occurrence.

● ● ●

The next game night, a new coworker asks them how they got together, Tito smiles as he takes Mat’s hand.

“It’s all thanks to Jordan, actually,” he says, eyes flicking over to where Jordan is now choking on a sip of the beer in his hand.

“Wouldn’t be anywhere without him,” Mat affirms, pressing a kiss to Tito’s cheek as he laughs at the puzzled look on his coworkers faces.

 


End file.
